A/N: This is a bit of a pet project I started writing almost seven months ago. My friend mentioned I never really wrote in her favorite sandbox, which is Stranger Things. She also muttered that any love stories I wanted to write took so long to land-
Well, that last part is kinda true. I like spending time on character development, before they fall deeply in love. And I do take my sweet time in doing that. But, I wanted to proof her right in not writing for the Stranger Things Fandom, so-
Here it is. Freshly fleshed out a new Number Ten fanfiction.
I suppose, the love story part will take a while to take of, though.
Ahum, anyhow, hopefully someone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. I'm very curious what you all think!
Summary: Jennifer Wallace had only ever wanted one thing. To control her own life. She wanted to pretend the designation 010 wasn't tattooed on the inside of her wrist. Pretend to have a perfect, normal life. And she was good at that. Until a car ride home went wrong, a close-knit group of friends' problems, and, a conspiracy with the Russian Military, shatter her bubble. Jennifer knew Hawkins hid many dark secrets (she was one of them, after all), but never had she thought what else would lie underneath.
Warning: this chapter contains the mention of mutilation, torture and horror to a beloved character. It's not graphic exactly, but I've been told it can be really disturbing. You've been warned!
Preface
The tiled walls of the rooms and corridors were blindingly white, gleaming in the fluorescents, and her feet paddled along the floors, fingers curled tightly into the hem of her gown.
Double doors clattered behind her and her breathing was coming fast. There were specks of blood on her feet. Blood was smeared on the walls, and along the white tiles on the floor, that same scarlet gleamed promising dark, as if something had been dragged down there.
The shrill whine of the alarm, the flicker of the lights from above and the dull crack of bones breaking ripped through the air. In the gruel of it all, you might mistake it for a terrifying melody.
Ten had never heard a melody though. She doesn't understand. Papa had wanted to test her abilities in the tank. 'Enhanced' he'd called them and 'easier to maintain', he'd said. And they'd only just lowered her into the water, when the alarms started to blare. Within the void, Ten watched the Orderlies stationed at the doors, leave her with the lab coats.
None of the children, none of her siblings, were ever left completely alone with the nameless lab coats.
Ten knew it was because they didn't trust them— didn't trust those with abilities with people who hadn't been trained with how to handle them. It was already unusual enough that Papa let anyone else direct the show instead of him, but when Ten watched the Orderlies move out of the room, her eyebrows puckered.
She followed one of the Orderlies, Lucas. With all of her attention on him, he walked alone, his bright white uniform glowing against the contrasting darkness of the void, his dark hair and dark eyes matching. The energy around Ten had buzzed intensely, her feet cold, the water swishing over her toes, but Lucas didn't let up, stalking quickly along the halls, the alarm lights lighting up in his eyes.
And—
Suddenly blood webbed across Lucas' face. Ten watched him spit it on the floor, specks landing on the hems of his white trousers.
Ten had been thrown out of the void next and she was back in the tank.
Thrust back into chaos. Her scream had been muffled by the helmet and getting out of the tank had been a hassle— Ten wasn't sure how she managed it. The metallic helmet with wires running out of it, was heavy on her shoulders when she was out of the water again, the cap with sensors on her scalp strangely suffocating, and she was alone.
When the helmet fell, it made a hollow clunk when it hit the stone floor and Ten's bare feet were cold against the tiles.
She found her gown, her flats, both barely adequate to ward of the chill that had settled in her bones. She was alone and scared, and perhaps this was just some kind of lucid dream, but there were screams from somewhere inside the building. And she didn't want to stay there, with the large tank and the echo of the people that had been there mere minutes ago, and Ten hurried outside.
The door gave with ease, no lock, no guards, no orderlies, and her feet slipped the moment she got outside. Ten lost her balance, toppled backward and fell hard. Her teeth rattled as she fell flat on her back. She was sprawled out like a starfish, her limbs scrambling, and she hiccuped as she rolled onto her stomach, only to freeze.
There was a smear of blood on the floor and Lucas' empty eye sockets stared at her. Ten gasped, her fingernails finding little purchase on the smooth tiles and finally, adrenaline entering her bloodstream, she flung herself upright.
There were more people, the Orderlies, and even some of the scary guards dressed in green, the ones who'd always seemed most energized when they got to hurt her, or her siblings, anyone really, were laying motionless on the floor.
Their eyes gaping, empty and bloody, just like Lucas', their limbs tangled, bent oddly. Somehow the scene reminded Ten of her history books, or of the horror stories Two would whisper to them when he wanted to scare them.
For a while she wondered if it was Two's doing, playing a trick on her mind, but Two although gifted with telekinesis never held power over the mind like she did. No longer able to hide inside the safety of her own childish assumptions, she gagged when she noticed Eight, the new Eight lying in a pool of his own blood. Ten could read the number on the inside of his twisted wrist and a whine escaped her lips.
Someone was screaming, yelling, it sounded almost animalistic and Ten shuffled unsteadily towards the source.
She wished she didn't.
Having to step over Doctor Ellis' death body, she pressed herself against the wall, carefully peeking inside the Rainbow Room. There was blood spattered everywhere and the slumped bodies of her brothers and sisters littered the floor, surrounded by the splinters and pieces of their broken toys.
Everything seemed broken beyond repair and Papa was standing amidst the carnage, shoulders tensed, specks of blood on his hands, even staining his grey hair.
"What did you do—" he whispered and stepped closer to one of the mutilated bodies.
Ten had seen enough, her wetsuit uncomfortable against her skin and her feet slipping on the blood, she turned around. And she ran.
To be continued
Next update: next Friday (as long as everything does as it is supposed to do)